Glass Roof in the Sky
by Tanoshimi
Summary: Mei is a college student who wants to escape from a life that holds no interest for her. When a new exchange student transfers to her university, she believes that she has finally found a person who can help her. NedTai
1. Chapter 1

Yup, new fanfic! Well, not new, really... But this is a bit of a tester chapter. I know this pairing is a bit crackish in the eyes of the general public, but there is a reason behind it! I swear!

I'm not sure how this story will be received, but please take a look at it. :)

* * *

><p>My name is Wang Mei Ling. I am about 150 cm tall and have dark brown hair and eyes. I was born in Taipei, Taiwan, and am currently a freshman at National Taipei University. My career of choice is electrical engineering. I hope to be able to work at Acer in the future. Some of my hobbies are foreign culture studies, reading, computer programming, and ping pong. My favorite sport is baseball. My goal is to study hard, get a good job, and travel around the world.<p>

Last year my older brother got up one morning and told me that he was going to China. I can still remember the happiness and anxiety mixing around in his eyes as he broke the news.

"Wan," he'd said (he's called me that for as long as I can remember because I liked to bend a lot as a kid). "The company's sent me to Beijing. I'm leaving in three months."

I'd just stared at him.

"Hey, Ge, no kidding around. I have tons of exams this week; I can't take that sort of thing right now," I'd joked, thinking that he was trying to be funny as usual.

"No, I'm not kidding, Wan. I'm really going to China."

My jaw dropped. I began to protest.

"I don't want to go to China—"

"You're not going. I am."

At that, I'd stopped short. I'd taken a good look around at the apartment that we shared. Ma and Ba had bought this apartment about two months before they got into that accident; now Yao was going to leave?

"So, I have to stay here by myself?"

"Yeah."

"And do everything by myself?"

"Yeah."

"And pay the utility bill by myself?"

"Well, I'll be sending you money every week."

I'd snorted.

"That makes everything better. Ge, I'm just a senior high school student—"

"Who's going to college next year. Frankly, I'd have thought that you'd be glad to have the apartment to yourself." Yep, that's my brother; a six-year difference between us and he thinks that I can take care of everything like he can.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Are you excited?"

"Well… yeah, I guess." He'd rubbed his head sheepishly. I'd glared.

"So you _do_ want to leave me here."

"No, it's not like that, Wan—"

"You want to leave me and the apartment—"

"No! Just listen—"

"And your friends and your life—"

"Stop that, Wan. I'm serious."

"And Ma and Ba," I finally spat out. Ge's face became stiff.

"Like it or not," he'd said very quietly, very calmly, "I'm going to China in three months. Until I do, you'll continue to study, and when I do, you'll still study. With the added responsibilities of taking care of yourself, like every college student does. I did it before; why can't you?"

Usually, I know better than to bring up our parents with him around. I don't really know what happened this time. But I know better than to deal with my brother at times like this, so I'd nodded and agreed sullenly.

"Fine. Go to China, I don't care."

So he did go to China, three months later. When he left, a part of me died. Why was I so distraught over this? True, I do love my brother a lot, but…

I guess it's because I've always wanted to make a great escape from my uneventful life. I love Taiwan, sure, but since Ba and Ma passed away, I've felt like there's no more promise here for me anymore.

Just broken memories and dust.

* * *

><p>Why Yao calls Mei "Wan": Because a fan name for her is "Wan Wan" (like Tai<em>WAN<em>, get it?) and because I made a stupid play on words (彎 means "bend/to bend" in Chinese). :3

How was it? Of course, the main part hasn't been reached yet, but it does get more interesting later on. Let me know how you feel!


	2. Chapter 2

This might sound weird and conceited, but this is one of my works that I'm most proud of. So I guess I'll just post it in case anyone happens to want to read it. :) And I don't think I'll be able to update very quickly; I haven't really even finished writing the whole thing yet. ^^'

Please go on!

* * *

><p>Sometime around one month into the semester, something momentous happens. I hear it all over the university grounds.<p>

"Did you see?" girls ask excitedly in their high voices.

"Yeah, just for a moment, though," guys reply back, sounding sort of miffed.

From all of this, I gather that there's a new student; it's a guy, and he's foreign. I become interested too; I'm curious about the world outside our little island. I've been to another country only once, and that was America. I wonder where this new student is from. So I go to one of my friends, Lien; she should know something.

"Hey," I greet her, walking over. "Did you hear about the new student?"

She puts down her book and looks at me in that serious way of hers. Lien's from Vietnam; her Chinese is adequate but not entirely perfect.

"Ah," she says, finally comprehending what I'm asking. "Yes, I did. I have not met him yet."

"Me neither." I shrug. "But do you know where he's from or anything?"

She looks thoughtful.

"No. But I know that he majors in engineering." _Like me_, I marvel silently. "Perhaps you will see him?"

"You think so?"

"Perhaps." Lien smiles. "Now, I must go back to studying. Good luck."

I thank her and realize that I have to be at the lecture hall in five minutes. Normally, I would be pretty anxious. But now, I feel some trepidation, some curiosity. I've never seen a foreigner study before, as stupid as that sounds. I want to observe this new person, see how he fits into this school. With that in mind, I set out at a trot across the campus, wondering what will happen.

* * *

><p>Nothing happens.<p>

In fact, I don't even see the new student. At first, I think that maybe he isn't in this class after all. I deflate a little. Then the professor, at the end of the period, suddenly announces,

"Tomorrow, we will be welcoming a new student into the class."

I'm suddenly feeling much happier. It's going to be the new student, I'm sure of it. If that's the case, then I have to go find out more about him.

Ever since Ma and Ba died, I've felt perpetually depressed. And now that Ge has left for China, I can add lonely to my list. I have friends, yes, and they're all very supportive, but somehow I just can't seem to feel at ease. But with this new student, I feel like something different will happen. A strange thing considering that I haven't met him yet, but still. This new student, a foreigner in a sea of Asians, will surely know how it feels to be lonely like I do. Maybe we'll have that in common, at least.

My heart is dancing staccato beats against my ribcage. I can hear liberation coming for me.

* * *

><p>The next day, I walk into class and <em>see the new student!<em> He sits in the middle of the room, and though I usually get one of the front seats, I decide to sit in the back today. Luckily, there's a seat right behind him. I take that one and begin observing.

_He's tall. _

This immediately poses a problem. I'm short and a little far sighted. _Smart, Mei_, I berate myself. Still, I put on my glasses and do the best that I can.

Halfway through the class, I realize this isn't going to work. The new student is way too tall and his hair is spiked up. There's a vacant seat next to him, but I don't want to get that close yet (I'm hoping that I can make a smooth, cool introduction to piqué his interest later). Still, as class goes on, I have to put aside my pride. Education is the top priority, after all. So I move next to him as unobtrusively as I can. He flicks his eyes toward me (they're a unique amber-green color) and then turns his focus back to the professor. I'm glad about that; he seems like a hardworking student and someone who respects privacy.

Then class ends and everything turns around.

I'm packing my things, preparing to greet him outside, when he suddenly turns to me.

"What made you decide to move up front in the middle of class?" he asks in English. Though I'm not proud of my own English-speaking abilities, I try to answer him.

"I am far-sighted. I cannot see from behind you."

"Is that so?" His voice is indifferent. Cold.

"Well… yes?" He isn't exactly how I thought he would be…

"Hm. Well then. So long." Then he gets up and _walks away_. I'm stunned.

"W-Wait!" I call after him. He turns around with an almost annoyed expression.

"Yeah?" What the hell? This guy isn't at all what I thought he would be like. He's so… rude! I want to give him a piece of my mind, but my English isn't good enough for that. Then I realize that he has to know Chinese in order to make it through class.

"I was talking to you!" I tell him heatedly in Mandarin. He pauses, a concentrated expression on his face. When he doesn't say anything for a while, I catch on. "You do not know Chinese, do you?" I ask smugly, in English this time. He averts his eyes, frowning.

"I know some. I have to use a translator the rest of the time."

Then he couldn't have made too much progress during the lecture. The notebook in his hand is open; the page is only half-filled. When I look at him again, he's raising an eyebrow at me.

"What are you looking at?"

"I–"

"Are you two finished yet?" It's Professor Wu, getting ready to leave. I quickly flutter out a "Yes, we're going" as the new student just stands there. I can see he doesn't quite understand, so I drag him out of the room.

"What was that?" he growls, flexing his wrist (I might have gripped him too hard). I scoff.

"The professor was telling us to go. Did you want to stay in there and talk?"

He makes a "hmph" noise and turns away. After a moment, he mutters,

"Thanks."

I'm taken by surprise.

"W-Wha…?" I stammer. But he's already putting distance between us, walking away in the direction of the lunch hall. On impulse, I blurt out,

"At least tell me your name!"

At first I don't hear a reply. He's brushed me off again; what a–! Then, his voice drifts over to me almost inaudibly (that's how far away he is).

"Lars van Vliet."

I am stock still for a moment. Then I shout,

"I'm Wang Mei Ling!"

I don't know if he can hear me or if he even cares. Despite that, a grin works its way onto my face. I'm not sure why.

* * *

><p>Hope it was okay!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Hur hur hur, glad I'm roping some people in with NedTai. CLOSET NEDTAI SHIPPERS, UNITE! (Maybe not... I still like JapanxTaiwan and stuff.)

Go ahead!

* * *

><p>The new student and I meet again and again in class. At first, I sit behind him, in front of him— never next to him. Eventually I gain some courage and sit closer to him. Lars stays quiet most of the time; that unnerves me and intrigues me at the same time. We only exchange a few words, and that's primarily for purposes of the class. I also see him around the university sometimes. He's usually alone, and I feel sort of bad for him. However, he's a bit intimidating and I'm sort of shy, so I never really take the initiative and approach him then.<p>

One day, however, I decide to ask him to lunch (because I'm a little tired of sitting with a couple of friends and chatting about nothing). I do it at the end of the lesson.

"I was wondering, um…" All of a sudden I lose my nerve. I stand there like an idiot, my mouth still open. Lars glances at me amusedly.

"What is it?" he asks brusquely. This is the first time he's talked to me all day.

I turn my head sharply to look at him. But he's so much taller that I'm forced to crane my neck upwards.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to eat lunch with me," I declare, crossing my arms. "But if you don't want to—"

"I never said that."

Huh?

"Well…" I say slowly, sheepish. This is awkward. "Does that mean yes?"

He shrugs.

"Why not? I go eat lunch now anyway."

I scowl. The way he says it makes it sound like he's doing _me_ a favor.

"Of course."

So we walk, side by side, over the campus and to the cafeteria. There's silence before I inquire,

"Where are you from?"

He looks at me, a little surprised.

"The Netherlands." Lars says this with pride, one the first emotions he's exhibited so far (well, besides arrogance, condescension, aloofness, etc.). I can respect that, I suppose, since I'm a nationalist at heart as well. Anyway, I've always been mildly interested in the Dutch. In the days of Dutch Formosa, they had helped to bring our ancestors to Taiwan, after all.

"That is interesting," I tell him truthfully. "Is it very different from Taiwan?"

He snorts.

"Of course." The way he says it isn't so nice, and just like that we're back to square one. He catches sight of my unhappy expression. "What's the matter?"

"… It's nothing. Anyway, you are majoring in engineering as well?"

"Yeah."

"I am studying electrical engineering. And you?"

"Civil engineering."

I've always thought of civil engineers as altruistic. After all, they're designing things for society's infrastructure so that the people can benefit. I'm a little surprised that this person has chosen that branch.

"That's nice."

"Thanks, I guess."

By this time, we've reached our destination. Inwardly I breathe a sigh of relief; our conversation was getting awkward. We go inside and get our lunches.

We're just sitting down when Yong Soo, my Korean exchange student friend, comes running up to me with a crazed expression on his face.

"Mei! Mei!" he cries, slamming his palms down on our table. "I heard you were hanging around the new foreign student! Is this him?" He stares at Lars. Lars stares back. I sigh.

"Yes, Yong. What's wrong?"

"Can he speak Chinese?" Yong asks confidentially, lowering his voice.

"A little, but not much." I'm assuming this, at least. Speaking of that, maybe I should take the initiative and help Lars out…?

"Good!" Yong all of a sudden lunges at me and traps me in a bear hug. "Be careful!"

Blushing, I hiss,

"What are you doing? Everyone's looking!" It's not quite true, since everybody here is used to Yong's antics except for maybe Lars. But I'm embarrassed nonetheless.

"I'm trying to warn you: don't jump into anything soon! And have safe sex!"

That's the last straw.

"Go away, Yong!" I push him off me and cross my arms. "We're just classmates!" Why is he trying to alienate me from a potential friend?

"That's what they all say, Mei. Just watch out." Yong shrugs and walks off, having performed his ridiculous antics for the day. I'm still red and flustered. I look over at Lars and see him with his translator.

"No! Give me that!" I childishly attempt to snatch it away, but he's too tall and his reflexes are too quick.

"No. Not until I look up what he just said to you." I watch him helplessly as he types out the last sentences of my mortification onto that devilish device. His mouth forms into an amused line as he reads. "Blunt, isn't he?"

"I told him we are just classmates," I say to him, trying to make things clear. I don't want him to get the wrong idea. Lars looks at me carefully.

"You don't trust me."

I look at him, shocked.

"Why do you say that?" I ask, trying to sound lighthearted. I mean, we _are _just acquaintances at the moment, and we've practically just met. I'm justified in thinking that, aren't I? But am I that obvious?

He just keeps watching me. Finally, he breaks our eye contact and says,

"Anyway, just know that I'm not out to get you. Demeaning you is not my goal."

I can only nod jerkily.

"Okay." How could he know my true feelings? I thought I was pretty good at keeping my emotions under wraps (I've had to do that a lot), but this guy sees right through me.

We just eat for a while. Eventually, I break the silence and, because I am curious and somewhat uncomfortable, I ask,

"What is it like in your home?"

Lars stops and looks at me. When he doesn't speak for a while, I debate brushing the topic off. Then he wipes his mouth with his napkin.

"Well, it's a bit colder there. And there are large buildings with fine, old facades. I used to go down to Dam Square when I had free time and just watch people cycle. The _Grachtengordel_—the 17th-century canals—are filled with small boats in the summertime..."

As he talks, his voice conveys longing. I can almost see what he's describing as he describes the winding journey through the streets of Amsterdam, the long train ride to his late uncle's home in Groningen. He tells me about Amsterdam with such passion that I wonder why he left. But that's a question for another day, so I let him come to a stop.

"And so that is my home," he finishes curtly. I nod slowly, removing my chopsticks from my mouth.

"It sounds… wonderful there," is the best I can do in English to express my immense interest. So I switch to Chinese. "非常有趣, very interesting. And when you tell stories, it is very 生動有趣—you tell them in an interesting way. I have a 身歷其境的感覺; a feeling like I can experience what you describe."

Lars seems surprised; he looks away and mutters, "Thanks."

I, feeling awkward, balance a piece of chicken in between my chopsticks. The Netherlands seems so exotic. I'd like to visit it someday, I think.

…Could Lars be my key to making a Great Escape?

I've finished my lunch, and so has he.

"Well, thank you for sharing that with me," I tell him. "Um…"

"See you tomorrow," he suggests, and I nod fervently.

"Yes. See you tomorrow." Just then, I remember something. "And if you want, I can help you with Chinese," I offer, turning red. He studies me.

"That could be helpful," he finally states. "Thank you."

I nod. As we part ways, I realize he's shown me a part of him that I didn't know existed before. Lars is rough around the edges, sure—but he's receptive and a bit of a romantic as well. Plus, I think I see a little bit of myself in him… What else lies underneath his aloof exterior?

I have to know more about him.

* * *

><p>Hooray for random Chinese phrases! Also, I fail at writing accented English, so I just use no contractions the occasional awkward phrase. Now that I mention that, I'm not very good at writing in Chinese either... Whatevs. :)

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

After that, Lars and I always eat lunch together after class ends. Days turn to weeks which turn to months, and somehow, we get to know each other better. I learn that he's not as bad as he seems. Though he can be blunt sometimes, he means well. Furthermore, Lars is pretty keen. He's a strategist; I've often seen him in the library playing chess with Kiku. He also has a penchant for reading minds. That's what it seems like, at least, because he can pick up on things about me that I don't even know myself. But it's hard to get close to him; he always maintains a certain distance with everyone. I've made it my mission to get him to open up. But sometimes, he does some things that are so incredibly infuriating that I really don't know what to do. Take today, for instance.

"That guy," I proclaim to Lien. "That guy—he annoys me so much!"

We're sitting at one of the picnic tables outside, since it's way too hot to be inside the school. Lien giggles.

"What has he done now?"

"What hasn't he done?"

This refers to Lars having the nerve to tell me that I should change out of my brand new pants today. I know they're not the most flattering pants in the world, but he didn't have to be so blunt! And if that wasn't enough, he kept walking behind me and _staring_ at them. Sometimes, I really can't stand him.

Lien shakes her head.

"Let me see them." I stand up and show her. "Well, they are not so bad—Wait. Mei, there is a rip on the back."

"What?" I sit down immediately. My face is red. "How?"

"I do not know. But there is a rip. Perhaps that is what Lars was trying to tell you."

Really? Now that I think about it, maybe he was. And maybe… when he was walking behind me, he was trying to cover me up. I was really ferocious to him too; now I feel guilty.

"I'm going to go change, then," I say finally. I make my way to the campus exit, using my bag to cover up the back of my pants. Thank goodness it's the end of the day. I wonder how long I had that rip, though…

I should probably thank Lars for trying to warn me. He looks out for me. This, from a person I met not too long ago.

"Hey." A voice catches me off guard. I whip around wildly.

"Who—? Oh."

It's Lars. I can see him take in my awkward pose, the way my bag is held stiffly over my rear.

"You've caught on."

"Yes." Well, now's as good a time as any to tell him. "… Thank you for trying to warn me. I am sorry I yelled at you."

He shrugs.

"It's fine. I couldn't really understand you anyway, what with you shouting at me in Chinese."

It was a good thing he didn't, too; I called him some pretty nasty things.

"Speaking of Chinese," he continues, looking down at his feet, "Do you have time today?"

I started assisting him with his Chinese about a month ago, since he has trouble with it. He's gotten a lot better than he was that first day.

"Yes, of course." To bait him, I ask coyly, "Do you need help?"

He looks to the side and mutters "hmph." I've learned to interpret this as a "yes" (he's too stubborn to ask for things directly). I nod.

"Okay. But let us go quickly, I have to…" I gesture at my pants. He seems to understand and begins walking.

As we make our way to my apartment, I take the opportunity to continue my quest of finding out more about him.

"Do you have any siblings?" I ask, stealing a glance at him. He's staring straight ahead while he walks, his hands in his pockets.

"A sister and a brother. She's in Belgium; he's in Luxembourg." This is something new. Now I look at him full on with astonishment in my eyes.

"Your family is so… widely spread! What do your parents say?" And what would Ma and Ba have to say about Ge and I being so far away from each other? My brother and I still communicate, but this is the first time in a long time that I've thought about my parents. My eyes burn a little. So I focus on Lars to distract myself. He, however, doesn't look too happy.

"My parents are dead." He says this directly. His face is emotionless. I know I've made a huge mistake.

"Oh. I'm… sorry." I can't look at him right now, so I turn away. After countless seconds pass, I make up my mind to open myself to him too. "My…" I start, but my throat gets choked up. I take a few minutes to compose myself. "My parents are dead too. They were in a car accident." When I finally look at him, he's gazing at me with shock in his eyes.

"I—I had no idea. I'm sorry as well." Then he gradually reassumes his original forward-facing position. His mouth has tightened into a thin line. There is no further reaction.

I'm suddenly angry at myself for relaying this personal piece of information to him. Lars and I aren't even that close; why did I tell him that? Am I really that desperate to get to know him? I grit my teeth and will myself not to cry. Suddenly—

"We're alike."

Again, he's managed to catch me off guard. I slowly twist my head around and stare at him questioningly.

"What?"

"You and I— we've gone through the same things. And I am truly sorry about what happened to you." He's looking at me too. I can see something resembling compassion in his eyes. There's a connection drawing our gazes together.

"Likewise. And thank you."

* * *

><p>The first thing I do when we get back is change my pants. When I come out of the bedroom, Lars is still standing in the living room where I left him before. He's looking around, taking everything in as always.<p>

"The new lamp is nice," he comments placidly. I thank him and ask him to sit down. He does so on the sofa.

"Do you want anything to drink?" I ask. I've found that he likes some Taiwanese beverages, but he customarily drinks water. He asks for a glass. I bring one to him and sit next to him.

"So, what do you need help on?"

He pulls out his notebook.

"I wrote down all that I could get."

When I open the notebook, my eyes swim through pages and pages of notes. The characters are widely spaced but neat. There are some things that are missing, but I can see that Lars has written mostly everything.

"How much of it can you understand?" I give the book to him and motion for him to read it. However, he doesn't take it.

"Not much."

I calculate how much time it will take us to get through this batch of notes.

"All right," I say finally. And so, with this new task ahead of us, we begin.

After two hours, we have filled in the gaps and I have explained everything to Lars. Now we are sitting back, eating some glazed almond wafers.

"So, how did you first learn Chinese?" I ask as small talk. I still haven't entirely gotten through our previous conversation.

"My late uncle," he replies. "He was a businessman who went to China frequently."

China. This reminds me of Ge. We've Skyped a lot, but neither of us has visited each other in person yet. He's changed. His hair's long now, and he ties it back. He looks a lot older too…

"My brother works in China. Beijing," I tell Lars. He nods slowly.

"What does he do?"

"He works in advertising. His business transferred him there."

"That's interesting. So he never knows where he ends up, right?"

I nod. Lars seems rather animated when talking about business; maybe he's interested in that stuff?

"Sounds nice," Lars adds after a while. "I sometimes wish I could just up and leave. To, well… just meet new people and try to feel like someone."

Wait.

Did he just say that he wished he could…? Him too?

"You want to…" Once again, English is hindering my expression. I switch to Chinese. "Do you…want to escape sometimes? To a different place where you can start your life over?" I barely dare to believe it.

Lars looks like he can't believe it either.

"…Yes, I suppose."

This person, who just a few months before was a stranger… He…

I think I've found someone who is truly similar to me.

"Really?" I inquire excitedly. Lars nods again. He seems to be judging my reaction. I say, almost as a whisper, "I feel that way too. You're the first person I've met who gets me. I don't really feel like there's much for me here anymore. Ever since—"

Lars actually chuckles. "Slow down." His voice is a little strained. "Don't trip over yourself talking."

Is he reluctant to talk about it?

"Sorry. " Perhaps I've talked too much, because Lars doesn't say anything. He's closed up like a clam. I feel some trepidation.

"Please forgive me," I try timidly. "I didn't mean—"

"Thank you for your help." He interrupts me before I can say anything else and gets up to leave. Perhaps it's better that way.

I nod hesitantly and accompany him to the door. It's then that I remember my manners.

"Wait!" Saying so, I rush to the kitchen and pull together a bag of almond cookies (my peace offering). I bring it to him. "Here. Some more almond cookies."

There's an unrecognizable expression on Lars's face.

"Thank you," he says finally. And after that, he tells me something bizarre. "We used to live in a big house. My siblings and I had a pet rabbit; I named her Miffy."

I understand, though, and I beam at him. He's starting to open up, and I hope this means we're becoming friends.


	5. Chapter 5

I've done it. I've done it. I want to jump up and down, scream at the sky, fly to the moon. I'm so happy I could hug Xing Qin, whom I've had a rivalry with ever since I was little.

I've finally broken through to Lars.

After that afternoon of revelations, he starts revealing more and more to me. Every day, he offers up another little piece of himself: moments of his childhood in Amsterdam, his school life, how after his parents passed away, his siblings moved to their respective countries to study.

"Though," he confides to me one day, "I think they also moved to leave the past behind."

So he keeps doing this, and little by little, we become closer and closer. Eventually, through tacit agreement, we become friends. We can talk to each other freely now, and I've learned that though Lars is a bit _tsundere_ (if my Japanese hasn't failed me), he'll answer whatever I ask him if it isn't too personal. And, somehow… he's unknowingly fueling my desire to leave my current life behind.

Today, we're sitting under one of the trees on campus. It's a sweltering day; the sweat is running down my neck in thin rivulets. To take my mind off the heat, I talk to Lars.

"Are you adapting to Taiwan?"

"…Yeah, I guess," he answers slowly.

We are leaning against the tree trunk, facing away from each other. I'm glad for this; he can read my emotions too easily and I don't want him to right now.

"That's good. I can't imagine making that great of a transition."

"It's not so hard." He shrugs.

Over the past week, I've been trying to weasel more information out of him. That day, when I found out that he felt the same things that I did… I felt like I found someone who was just as idealistic as I was. Now I'm attempting to find out more, but he doesn't seem to want to talk much for some reason. He's a really private person, I guess.

"Really?"

He stares straight ahead.

"It's easy when you've always been a loner."

When I hear this, I feel a little sad for some reason.

I don't say anything for a long time. He remarks,

"You're being quiet."

I nod.

"I know," I sigh, turning to face him. He, hearing the rustling sounds I made, turns around as well.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Then why do you look so depressed?"

I huff and bop him lightly on the head. He glares at me.

Lars has gotten better at Chinese. I can talk to him in Mandarin and for the most part, he'll understand. He can even keep up with Professor Wu on his own now. Seeing this, I feel sort of proud.

"I just feel sorry for you," I finally admit, gazing at him after a pause.

He's looking at me with a freezing cold expression.

"I don't need your pity," he says in a flat monotone voice. I know I've offended him then.

"No, not pity! I'm just, um…" I can't find a rational way to backtrack out of this, so I just keep going forward blindly. "I just think it's sad that you were alone before—" Obviously, I'm not making things any better. Lars is still facing me with a chilling expression. So I do the next best thing. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Please, I—" I don't know what to say anymore, so I stop. He still glares at me; then, thank goodness, he turns away.

We don't say anything for a while. I sit there, apprehensive and a little angry at myself. I always mess things up, always. Why can't I do anything right? Why am I so inept—

"Hey."

I start. It's Lars; he's looking at me again. I'm speechless for a moment.

"Don't be angry" are the first words out of my mouth when I finally regain my ability to speak. "I didn't mean to offend you, please believe me!"

He stays quiet for countless minutes. Then,

"I'm not angry. And anyway, it's… It's not your fault. So stop apologizing."

"All right." I think he's forgiven me. I'm so relieved that we've gotten over that. Perhaps it's time to move on. "Thank you."

"What for?" He raises an eyebrow at me. This makes me self-conscious; when did I get so dependent on others that I would do anything for someone to stop being mad at me? I decide to change the topic for both of our sakes.

"Well, um… Anyway, spring break is coming up. What do you plan on doing?"

Lars thinks.

"Nothing, I guess," he finally says, shrugging. "I wouldn't know what to do anyway."

Ah hah! An opening!

"Well," I begin, crossing my arms. "I could show you around, take you to a few places…."

Lars looks at me strangely.

"What places?"

"You know. A few landmarks, some hangout spots, things like that."

He scrutinizes me for a while. Then he turns away.

"All right."

Despite myself, I light up.

"Well… okay." Why do I sound so shy? This is Lars, my friend. We're just going to be spending time together during break. The two of us. Probably alone.

"Why are you blushing?" Lars asks curiously. I look at him, startled, and put a hand to my cheek. It's warm.

"Um… It's the heat. That's all."

He snorts.

"It always is."

I swat at him and then it's time to leave. As I make my way to my apartment, I muse on what I learned today. Lars is proud; he doesn't like to be pitied. I have to keep this in mind if I want to get closer to him. While I have made progress with Lars, I have to remember that there's still the chance of jeopardizing all that. I'll have to be careful while we're together during break.

* * *

><p>Sorry for the short chapter...<p>

I want to say thank you to the readers of this fic. I didn't think many people would read this, but you guys are the best! Your reviews are very encouraging, and I'm glad that you share my passion for this story. :)


	6. Chapter 6

On the first day of break, we go to Taipei 101. Lars has never been there before (actually, he hasn't been anywhere in Taiwan), and I'm hoping that I'll be able to impress him the way he impressed me with the stories of his homeland.

"Here it is," I tell him proudly as the silver peak of the building comes into view. He looks at it for a while, then turns to me.

"So, what can you do here?"

"Well… there's a mall. And food courts. And shops and stuff, you know." His unenthusiastic response is deflating my prior excitement. "And restaurants and clubs and…" I think hard for something else. "An observatory—"

"An observatory?"

His mildly interested comment gives me hope once again.

"Yeah! There's an indoor and outdoor observatory. They both have 360 degree views, and the indoor one has voice tours and gift shops and things. You can see the main damper…" I babble on and on, telling him about the wonders of Taipei 101. It's always been one of my favorite architectural pieces. And I'm assuming that Lars, as a soon-to-be civil engineer, will be interested in it too. It's working, I think. He looks a little more drawn in by my explanations.

"What floors are the observatories on?" he asks after I finish.

"The 89th and 91st."

"Ah." He looks at me for a moment, then looks away. "And is it really that amazing up there?"

"Oh, yes! Come on, I'll show you." My Taiwanese pride is showing. I have to demonstrate how amazing this building is so that he can understand. "I won't take no for an answer!"

"…Fine," he agrees, and I march ahead proudly. However, when I turn back, Lars is still standing there, gazing at the building. "Are you coming?"

He faces me quickly.

"Yes."

Well, that's uncharacteristic of him. Lars is usually so on top of things. Whatever, it's probably just me being neurotic.

He follows me and we both enter Taipei 101.

Inside, it's a cool contrast to the warm spring air outside. Both of us walk around the lobby. I'm not sure if Lars wants to go into the mall, but when I ask him he agrees. All the better for me. I had my eye on a particular bag anyway.

So we explore the mall for a few hours, during which I manage to get myself a few things (occasional splurges are good, right?). Lars, I notice, has gotten nothing at all. When asked about this, he replies,

"I don't need anything."

I wonder why he agreed to come here, then.

But I do go on a mini shopping spree. Afterwards, it's nearly noon, so I suggest that we go to the observatory restaurant, then make our way to the observatory. Lars once again agrees. But when we get there, he doesn't eat anything.

"Are you sure?" I ask him, feeling self-conscious about the sandwich in front of me. He rolls his eyes.

"I'm fine. You go ahead."

So I eat by myself. Meanwhile, Lars keeps glancing at the high, vaulted ceiling. I figure that he's taking mental notes of the structure and such. I try to finish quickly; when I do, I toss the trash out and ask,

"Are you ready?"

He nods curtly and we make our way to the elevator. It's a quick ride up to the 89th floor, and my ears are popping by the time we arrive. Lars, pressed as he was against the side of the elevator, rights himself to join me.

"So, this is the indoor observatory," he notes, looking around at the high windows with their UV ray protection, the exhibits and artwork that fill the room. I smirk to myself privately; surely he's impressed by now!

"Yes. Do you want to see the view?"

He follows me to one of the windows. But to my astonishment, he takes a cursory glance before drifting over to an exhibit. I follow him, confused.

"Um… did you like it?" I inquire, unsure of what to say. He nods, training his eyes on a computer screen.

"It was interesting. A nice panorama." The way he says it is flat and unconvincing. I suddenly feel a slight spike of anger. He shouldn't so blatantly disregard one of modern Taiwan's most famous symbols, after all. I want to berate him, but perhaps that's better done later on.

"Is there anything else you'd like to see?" I ask out of courtesy. He turns to me.

"Actually, I still have some work to do. Maybe some other time."

I give him a plastic smile.

"Sure."

We make our way down again. When we're out of the doors and a good distance away from the building, I turn to Lars with the full intention of scolding him for being narrow-minded. However, I notice that he looks paler than usual. In fact, his skin has taken on a very faint greenish tinge. My annoyance turns to concern.

"Er, are you all right?" I ask him, getting closer to him for a better look. I try to feel his forehead, but he shies away.

"Fine." He doesn't sound fine. His responses are briefer than usual, and I know by now that that means that there's something wrong. His breathing is a little heavier than usual as well. I frown.

"Really. You can tell me."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"How would you know? You're not me." He's being so stubborn over nothing! As a last resort, I dart in front of him and block his path.

"We're not going anywhere until I found out what's wrong with you," I say firmly, crossing my arms. It's only then that I realize he can simply go around me, but for some reason he stops. He sighs.

"Are you really that worried for me?" he asks, smirking a little (though shakily). I don't really know how to react to that.

"Well, yes. It's what friends do." My first direct reference to our relationship. It feels odd and thrilling to say it out loud.

Lars sighs. He looks away to the side and puts his hands in his pockets. Then he mutters so quietly that I nearly miss it,

"I'm afraid of heights."

I stare at him, shocked. He turns to me sharply.

"What?" he asks gruffly, obviously embarrassed. So many thoughts are running through my head that I can't answer him until a few moments later.

"…Then why did you agree to go up to the observatory?" I ask finally. "You could have told me. Then I wouldn't have made you go up there." I'm feeling guilty; who would have known that heights would make him so physically ill?

Again, he can't seem to look at me as he replies,

"It's what friends do."

What is that supposed to mean? Unless…

Unless like with the shopping, he just went because I wanted to. I'd figured out that he'd indulged me by accompanying me in the mall, since he didn't seem to want anything. Perhaps he'd seen my eagerness to show him the best of Taipei through the observatory, and he'd indulged me with that too….

"You…" I stammer through this stunning revelation. "You shouldn't do that! Just because I want to do something, you shouldn't go along with it if it means that you'll be hurt!"

He shrugs.

"I figured that it would be a quick thing and I would be fine. I was wrong."

How can he be so flippant about this?

"Well, do you need some water or anything? Do you need to lie down?" I ask, fluttering around nervously. He shakes his head.

"If I just sit down for a while, I'll be okay."

So we find a nearby bench to rest on. I don't talk to him, just watch him, for fear of exacerbating his condition. Eventually, he catches sight of my worried gaze.

"You're too quiet. And the way you're looking at me is disconcerting."

I huff.

"I'm just anxious for you. Anyway, are you really all right?" I tentatively touch his arm. He looks at my hand, then looks at me.

"…I'm fine. Thanks."

I nod, smiling a little.

"Good."

We sit there for a while, just watching people pass by and enjoying the calm. Eventually, I ask,

"So, is there anything else I should know? So that I don't bring you to the wrong place next time."

He thinks.

"No, that's about it."

I nod again. After a while, he turns to me and says gruffly,

"Don't worry about me. I'm not a kid."

I look at him, astonished.

"I never said you were. Anyway, I'm just nervous by nature." I smile a little. "But if you're really all right, then I'll try my best to stop worrying."

He looks at me with an inscrutable expression.

"Deal."

Somehow, I feel that his response signifies something else too.

* * *

><p>Hahaha, awkward writing much? I was going for realism but maybe this is too much like a drama...<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

After that inconvenient incident, I decide to take Lars to "safer" places. This means that we go walking the streets, exploring various stores, and trying different foods (sometimes, his reactions are pretty hilarious). I can tell throughout this that he's a little exasperated by my caution, but he's bearing it patiently. Nevertheless, we continue to make progress in our relationship; hour by hour, day by day, I feel that I can laugh more easily around him. Lars seems to be lightening up too; I think he's smiling more. And I realize that I've never been this close to any of my other friends. Odd as it may be, I think Lars is my most trusted confidant.

Though I have the sinking feeling that this is one-sided.

Anyway, Lars is getting a little impatient with all of the admittedly boring destinations we've been going to. He tells me this one night when we are at the night market.

"You know, I'm only bad with really tall heights," he grumbles into his shaved ice. "I'm fine with anything else."

I look at him from across our little streetside table and raise a spoonful of ice and green beans to my mouth.

"…I know," I admit after a moment of trying to look indignant. "I'm just afraid—"

"I'll be fine," he assures me, sighing a little. "Trust me." When he catches my still unconvinced expression, he adds, "I'll tell you if it gets too bad." This, coming from a guy who has so much pride that he wouldn't even ask for help after getting injured (this was in a soccer game back in the Netherlands), is persuasive enough.

"All right," I agree. "I'll take you to Kenting National Park tomorrow." It's a bit of a splurge, but I don't mind. And if we wake up early and take the high speed rail I think we can make it in time. I tell Lars my plan and he nods, his nonchalance belying his eagerness.

"I don't mind," he says, and grins a little at me. I can't help but beam back.

* * *

><p>I wake up at five the next morning and call him. Surprisingly, he sounds fully awake. When asked he explains that,<p>

"I thought it would be useful to wake up earlier." This I can only attribute to the fact that great minds think alike.

"Should I go over to your apartment?" I ask him. There's some silence on his end of the line.

"Yeah, sure," he says finally, giving me an address, and then we say goodbye and hang up. I wonder about his momentary pause as I dress. Is he reluctant to have me go over to his place? I've never been there before, actually, and I'm sort of curious as to what kind of apartment he lives in. The address he gave me is in the student quarter, which is not the most amazing area in the city so I'm not getting my hopes up for a really fancy place (where would he get the funds anyway?). Nevertheless, I feel sort of excited. It's like I'm going to discover a new side of him again.

So I find myself in the lobby of an apartment complex about ten minutes later, telling the genial landlady that I'm here to see a friend.

"That Dutch boy?" she asks. "Sure, I'll tell him that you're here."

While I wait for her to tell him, I take a good look around the place. The ceilings are low and painted cement gray. The walls are a pallid shade of beige. The door is the only window out. I shudder a little. This place is so desolate; how can Lars stand living here? Though maybe he doesn't have much choice; he's a foreigner and a student, so funds are bound to be low. No wonder he wants to make another life for himself as well. I sort of want to see if his personal living space is as lonely-looking as the lobby. This, however, is thwarted when the landlady tells me that Lars will be coming down soon. While I wait, I notice that she's observing me.

"How do you two know each other?" she asks curiously.

"We go to the university together."

"Oh! How nice." She seems pensive. "Are you two... a couple?"

Inadvertently, my cheeks turn a fiery red.

"Oh, no! We're just friends, you see, nothing like that. He's new to Taipei, so I'm just showing him around! We're not—"

"Mei?" Oh God, Lars is here. How mortifying.

"Lars!" I spin around to meet him. "What took you so long? Come on, we have to make it in time for the train! Bye, Mrs. Tsai!" I practically drag him out of the place. He looks at me with amusement.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" I scowl, my cheeks still an angry red. "Your landlady is nosy."

"Mrs. Tsai?" He studies me. "What did she do?"

"You don't need to know." I stomp ahead, trying to contain my embarrassment. I don't know why this is getting to me so much, but it is, and I really want to—I feel something close around my wrist. When I look back, I find that it's Lars.

"Take it easy," he tells me, grinning wryly, and pulls me back into step with him. "You'll explode if you keep getting huffy like that."

I pout and shake my head.

"Whatever." But now, walking next to Lars at a languid pace, I do feel calmer. Though I'm still blushing a little because he grabbed my arm—No! Not because of that! It's not like I like him or anything, so why should that bother me? We're just friends!

I spend the rest of the walk to the station trying to convince myself of this.

* * *

><p>When we get to Kenting National Park after the two hour ride, it's just starting to become warmer. The sun is peeking through the wisping clouds when we finally make our way to the coral beaches. While Lars (who is actually pretty adventurous) peeks into the reef fringing the water below, I stay a little way back and slap at mosquitoes, both real and nonexistent (I'm pretty allergic to bug bites). I do admire the view, however. Besides the blue water in front of us, I can see the tall mountains to the north. I don't know if we'll go there; we're a little rushed for time and I plan to show Lars the more interesting parts of the park first. But for now, I'm content to just watch him be interested in this park (and gloat a little at how cool Taiwan is— though I still want to go elsewhere). He seems pretty into it too… Smiling slyly to myself, I raise my camera and take a picture of him. He whips around.<p>

"Hey!"

I gaze at him innocently.

"Huh?"

He shakes his head but I think I can see a grin. It's then that I notice a man and a woman watching us. The woman steps forward, smiling.

"We could take a picture of you two," she offers kindly. It isn't a bad idea. I thank her and give her my camera. Lars looks unwilling. Still, when I go up to his side and we stand against the backdrop of sky and sea, he smiles a little.

And puts his arm around my shoulders.

I fight to keep my face its normal color and beam at the camera. After I hear it snap, I go to retrieve it.

"Thank you so much," I tell the woman. She waves it off.

"It's good to document this stage in your relationship. These are the happiest times."

I keep the smile on my face but I have a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Oh, we're just friends," I explain airily. "He's never been here before, so I'm showing him around."

Infuriatingly enough, the woman still doesn't seem to understand.

"All right," she singsongs. "Have a good time!"

I heave a sigh after she and her husband walk away. At least Lars didn't hear our exchange… What was up with people thinking we're dating anyway? We're just friends.

… Anyway, I don't think Lars would date a person like me. I'm too abrupt and awkward.

After we finish admiring the beach, we go to the nearby stands to get some refreshments. There are whole coconuts being sold; I buy two and give one to Lars. He looks at it for a while before sucking on the straw that's stuck in it. There's a satisfied look in his eyes, and I tease him about that for a while. We walk down the row of souvenir stands, drinking coconut juice and pointing out interesting knickknacks. After a while we finish and begin to trek through the plain leading to Erluanbi Lighthouse. The sun is now at its zenith in the sky. It's literally burning; I'm so glad that I brought a cap with me. Though how is Lars doing…? I glance at him furtively and see that he seems unaffected. He's just walking calmly with his head held high in the burning sunlight. It's like he's immune to everything!

By the time we reach the lighthouse, I'm sweltering. Even though I'm wearing a thin T-shirt and shorts, even though I put my hair up, I'm still so unbearably _warm_. Inside the structure is a bit better, though most of the heat is still there. I fan myself with some flyers while Lars goes to see the upper level of the lighthouse. After a while it gets crowded, so I go outside (back to the oppressive heat) and lean on the railing. It's there, looking over the vast plain that we just traversed, that my feelings suddenly go on a rampage. I become hypersensitive to Lars' absence, start thinking about everything that we've done together, begin wondering what he's doing now–

Why am I doing this?

We're just friends, he and I. Nothing more, nothing less (hopefully). Why can't my stupid subconscious get that straight?

"It's a nice place." He's managed to sneak up on me again. And just like that, I feel my cheeks redden.

"I guess so," I agree, turning to look at him, trying not to show my pink face. "Do you want to walk around the perimeter for a little?"

He agrees, so we stroll along the pathway beside the stone wall. We walk around for a few minutes, during which my intense feelings start to subside. By and by, he remarks,

"There are chinks in the wall," and points one out. I nod.

"This is a fortified lighthouse; I think troops might have used those holes to shoot through." I go up to one of them and look out. "There's a sort of nice view if you look through them." In my peripheral vision I see him do the same.

Gazing through the chink is a little like peeking into a different world. From land to sea. From my home to the outside. I suddenly become aware of how small I am in a huge world. There is so much out there to see, and I…

I have no access to it. No resources, no time, nothing. And I'm restricted by the fact that my parents are buried here; I must be the one to keep their memory alive, sweep their graves every Qing Ming Festival.

This realization is so piercing that I feel the need to get away from here.

"Lars," I call softly. "Are you finished?" My voice sounds foreign. Lars looks at me.

"Yeah," he replies, a little puzzled, and follows me away from the lighthouse. Thankfully, he doesn't ask any questions and just walks by me reassuringly. Does he know what I'm feeling? It wouldn't be the first time he did.

I glance at my watch. We're a little ahead of schedule; in an effort to distract myself, I turn to him.

"Do you want to go the mountains? We still have time."

He nods slowly.

"I don't mind." So we head for the north.

After a while we get there and it is spectacular. I haven't been here in a while, so the mountains seem so much more vibrant than I remember. By this time I've managed to turn my mind to other matters so that I can start to truly enjoy nature again. I show Lars one of the mountain paths that I remember. It's a beautiful route; there is foliage everywhere and there are vantage points that reveal whole panoramas. As we trek, Lars tells me offhandedly,

"The Netherlands is relatively flat. That's why there are so many bikers there; I used to bike myself."

We watch a mountain biker whiz by.

"I'd like to see that someday," I say. "It seems so—" I never finish my sentence because, with a cry of astonishment, I trip over a rock and fall prostrate onto the ground. I sit up, dazed. Lars kneels by me, alarmed.

"Are you all right?"

"I think so," I start to say, but then there's a searing pain on my knee and palms. I look and see that there is blood running down my leg and staining my hands. "Ow."

"Is there somewhere nearby where you can get a first aid kit?" Lars asks pragmatically. I wince and think.

"I have one in my backpack," I recall, and gingerly use the tips of my fingers to get it. However, Lars takes it from me.

"Your hands are all scraped up. You shouldn't risk infection," he says authoritatively as he unzips the backpack and rummages around for the kit. He finds it and retrieves some antibacterial wipes and bandages.

"It's all right," I protest. "I can do it myself."

He snorts.

"I'd like to see you try." Then he begins to dab at my knee with the wipes. It stings and I tear up a little. After he bandages up my knee, he moves onto my hands. I watch him dumbly and with embarrassment. Lars is gentle; he takes each hand and gently wipes at the injured area, making sure to get all of the dirt and grit out. He's really close to me, and if I reach out I can touch his face… No, stop it!

"They're just large, shallow scrapes. Nothing to be alarmed about," he reports after he's done. He packs up the kit and slides it back into my backpack. "Can you walk?"

"I think so," I say, clearing my head, and try to stand up. It's a bit abrupt and painful when my knee straightens out, but I can manage it. "Thank you."

He nods.

"Be more careful."

I soon find out that, although I can right myself, it's a little hard to walk. After the twentieth time I stumble over a pebble, Lars sighs and slides my arm over his shoulder.

"Come on, we're going back."

"But you haven't seen the rest of the mountains yet," I say feebly. He looks at me incredulously.

"I don't think we'll get very far with you in your condition. It's going to be hard enough getting to the exit."

We do it, though, and my cheeks are burning every step of the way. Lars' arm is supporting my waist and it's a bit awkward. I'm embarrassed, too; Lars, who isn't even used to mountains, has to help me after I tripped on a path I've been on tons of times before. I can't really look at him as we get back on the train. After a while, he asks,

"You are okay, right?"

I chance a smile at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks again for helping me."

He doesn't nod this time or even seem to acknowledge my thanks.

"Back at the lighthouse; what happened?" The question is abrupt. I'm a little surprised that he asked this.

"Nothing. I just… I don't know, I felt…"

"Just say it."

Lars is someone I trust, right? And he's virtually the only person I'm really close to. So…

"I just… I was just thinking that I would like to leave Taiwan. There isn't much for me here, and I want to see the world… But I can't. I don't have the necessary resources, and I have a duty to my parents." I say all of this quickly, in hopes that we can get over it sooner. It's strangely relieving to get all of this off of my chest.

"I see."

As he says that, I avert my eyes. Although it was therapeutic, admitting that is still embarrassing. All of a sudden I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey," Lars says, shaking his head at me. "You shouldn't be embarrassed to say that."

"Oh," I laugh a little in embarrassment. "It just…seems silly to admit it. Especially to you, because, well… I know that you don't like to talk about it." My voice dwindles to a whisper. I can't understand why I'm being so candid.

Lars looks at me for a while.

"… It's not that I don't like to talk about it," he tells me. "It's just that I don't think we have the same view on the topic."

I wonder what he means by that. Don't we both want to escape? So how can our views be different?

"I don't understand…"

He looks at me for a few moments; then he directs his gaze to the passing landscape outside the train window. It's very quiet. I almost think that he's stopped talking.

"…I'm sorry," I say out loud (when did that become my catchphrase?). As I keep my eyes trained on him, he leans his forehead against the glass and sighs.

"Don't be. Just don't get your hopes up; I don't want to be the source of your disillusionment."

Another cryptic answer. But this time, I feel a sense of foreboding. I try to forget about it.

-When we get back to Taipei, Lars drops me off at my apartment before going back to his own. I ask him to come in after I hobble up to my door; he declines.

"I have some things to take care of," he explains, turning to go. "See you."

"All right," I say, a little regretfully, and then I go in.

Later, after I've showered (ow ow ow) and am lying on my bed, I look through the pictures I took throughout the day. I'm flipping through all of them when a particular one happens to pop up. It's the picture of Lars and me at the coral beach, the one that the woman took for us. I scrutinize it. I'm smiling at the camera, making a "V" with the fingers of my left hand. To my right is Lars. He's smiling vaguely, just enough to show that he's not frowning, and of course, his arm is around my shoulders.

I look at this photo for a long time. We have quite a height difference between us, it seems; he's much taller than I am…

I think these things and try to stop the rapid-fire cadence beating in my chest.

* * *

><p>So, there are obviously some not entirely accurate things happening in this chapter (for example, going to Kenting from Taipei and back in a day), but I hope we can overlook that. :D<p>

Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Hey again! Sorry for the slow updates. ^^'

* * *

><p>The next two days are rainy, so Lars and I don't do anything together. I'm a little glad for that; I don't think I can face him so soon after revealing myself to him so frankly on that trip to the park. But when the third day is still rainy, I start to go a little stir-crazy. As I laze on my bed, looking at the bandage on my knee (it scabbed over and now there's pus and stuff and I can't bear to look at that), I suddenly get a stroke of genius. Why not call Lars? He's possibly as bored or even more bored than I am. We can talk, maybe. So I pick up my phone and dial the number that he gave me, staring at the ceiling all the while. After a few rings, the line connects.<p>

"Hello?" His voice sounds strange over the receiver.

"Hi, it's Mei."

"Oh. Hey."

"Ha, yeah. Um, are you busy right now?" I've just realized that there's a huge flaw in my plan. What am I going to talk to him about?

"Not particularly." He sounds amused. Laughing at my failing attempt at small talk, most likely.

"Oh. Okay. That's good." God, I sound so stupid right now. "Well, um… what are you doing?"

"Nothing. There isn't much to do on days like this."

I laugh.

"Yeah, it's pretty boring. So, do you have any idea what we should do once the weather clears up?"

"You're my guide, aren't you? I don't know this place well enough to have an opinion about it."

"… That's true." Why is it so hard to talk over the phone?

"Did you need anything?"

"No, not really."

"Just wanted to talk?"

"Sort of."

"Anything more to say?"

"… No."

There's definitely an amused quality to his voice now.

"Well, do you have any tips for what to do on rainy days in Taipei?"

I think.

"Not really. Unless, you know, you want to come over or something." I say this jokingly, getting ready to hang up. But then something surprising crackles out of the receiver.

"When?"

Well, that was unexpected.

"Um, any time, I guess," I stutter, astonished. "Whenever suits you. Right now, even."

"All right." And the call is disconnected with a crisp click. After I hang up, I continue to hold the phone receiver in my hands.

What just happened?

Then something in my mind snaps back into place; Lars is coming over and I have to get prepared. I jump up and pull on something presentable, go to the kitchen and grab some snacks, tidy the place up a little. Then I sit on the couch and wait. I don't know if I'm nervous or excited. Why do I even feel this tense in the first place? In an attempt to calm down a little, I turn on the TV. It doesn't help.

Minutes later, I hear a knock on the door. I leap up like someone just fired a gunshot; I try to reorganize my frazzled nerves and go to open it.

Lars is standing in the hallway. He's holding an umbrella in his hand and his shoes are wet.

"Hey," he greets me. I titter (how embarrassing!).

"Come in!"

He leaves his shoes by the door. We assemble on the couch like we do every time he comes over for help on Chinese, except now we have no work and no basis for conversation.

"How is it outside?" I ask, for lack of a better topic. He looks at me a little incredulously.

"Rainy."

"… Right." I can't think of anything more to say. Not to mention that I'm feeling a little shy, since Lars saw me being weird the other day. But then, he's the one who knows me best…

After some awkward silence in which we both stare at the TV, he all of a sudden snorts.

"It's not like we're complete strangers or anything. You don't have to be afraid to talk."

I gape at him.

"I'm not afraid to talk!" I splutter, punching his shoulder. He smirks.

"Then why are you being so defensive?"

So through his teasing and my protesting we manage to start talking like we always do. I'm relieved that Lars doesn't seem to be any less accepting of me. I guess I thought that he would have lost interest in me or something after that incident. "Grateful" would probably be the best word to describe me right now. I'm grateful that he's continued to stand by me.

"Hey, Lars?" He's just raising a pineapple cake (he seems to like them) to his mouth when I say that. He pauses to look at me. I flush.

"You don't have to stop eating." He ignores that.

"Yeah?" His eyes are mildly inquisitive. I notice for the first time that they're sort of pretty… Ahem. Getting back to what I was saying.

…What was I going to say?

"Um," I stammer. "How are those pineapple cakes?"

He looks at me weirdly.

"They're good," he says, and finally takes a bite of the one he's holding. "I've never had them before."

"Really?" I ask, relieved that the awkward moment is over. "Not even during your travels?"

"Nope." He munches on it again. "I used to eat _vlaai_ a lot, though, and my favorite flavor was pineapple. They're a little like pies," he explains when he sees my confused expression. "But they taste a lot better. Anyway, my siblings and I used to eat those while we sat by the stream near our home. We would get out a table and watch the ducks swimming in the water." He has a wistful expression on his face. It abruptly disappears when he finishes the pineapple cake. "But that was a long time ago."

"That sounds so cool!" I tell him, sitting up. "My brother and I used to go to Danshui sometimes to drink coffee and tea and just look out at the water and talk." I suddenly think of something. "Hey! I'll take you there. That's what we'll do once the weather clears up. You'll like it, I think."

He nods slightly.

"Okay."

We both take a sip of mango juice. The silence is starting to get to me; I can feel my heartbeat quickening and butterflies are dancing in my stomach. I look over at Lars. He seems fine; why can't I be calm like him? Though it's probably because he doesn't feel the same way I do—

Wait a minute. How exactly do I feel?

This offers an interesting topic to dwell on, and since we're not doing anything right now, I let myself think. I've been getting flustered and shy around Lars, my heart's been pounding a lot and I notice weird things about him that friends shouldn't… All the symptoms of a crush. But I don't like him like that—Do I?

As I go through all of my actions pertaining to Lars from the day that I first saw him, I gradually am forced to admit it: maybe I do like Lars. How else would I explain the strange things that happen to me when I'm near him, my (obsessive) desire to get to know him? I like to think that our relationship is a little deeper than that, though. We both want to start new lives (even if he doesn't want to admit it, for some reason). Honestly, we're the best match for each other because of our similar perspectives. So yes, I do like him; almost like a soulmate.

But he probably doesn't feel the same towards me.

It's not a pleasant thing to consider. I've had experiences with dating in the past, and they've all ended the same way: with the guy calling it off. (It wasn't totally my fault; I need someone who will listen and talk to me. Maybe I said too much…) Then again, Lars and I have a lot in common. We understand each other and have gone through the same things. Maybe…? I steal a peek at him again. Unfortunately, he catches on.

"What is it?"

"N-Nothing," I stammer. "There… There's something on your face!" There really is. It's a crumb of pineapple cake, and before I know it I've wiped it off with a tissue. Lars watches me.

"Well… thanks." He gives me one last questioning look before turning back to the TV. Inwardly, I simultaneously sigh in relief and blush embarrassedly. My unconscious is getting the best of me; I'd better rein it in when I'm around him. He's a good friend, and I don't want to scare him off or anything. I focus on the TV too, though my heart isn't really in it.

"Mei."

Startled, I whip my head around.

"Huh?"

Lars is gazing into my eyes. He bends his head forward a little. His hand rises to about my cheek level and comes closer… My mouth feels dry. He's parting his lips a little…

Then he flicks me on the forehead.

"Ow!" I whine, rubbing at the sore spot. "What was that for?"

"You're red," he says simply. I pout.

"You're mean. Oh, hold on. I have to go to the bathroom." I scamper up from the couch and run (I must have drunk more juice than I thought). Once inside, I do my business, wash my hands, and then look into the mirror. There's a small red spot on my forehead where the tips of Lars' fingers connected with it. I scowl and remind myself to get revenge on him later.

When I walk out the bathroom door I run into him, colliding into his chest. He stumbles backwards a little.

"Sorry," I say, once I've reoriented myself and have taken a step back (that actually _hurt _a little). Then I narrow my eyes at him. "But why were you standing there?"

"I needed to ask you something," he explains, rolling his shoulders. "Do you always walk so forcefully?"

I stick my tongue out at him.

"Only when nosy guys stand outside the bathroom." Then I realize something. "Were you _listening_?" I practically shriek. He reddens.

"No! Like I said, I just wanted to ask you something. I'm not a pervert or anything!"

I flail my arms at him.

"Ew! I can't believe you were standing outside the whole time! What's the matter with you?"

"I wasn't standing outside the whole time! Calm down!"

This is the first time I've seen him flustered. It's sort of fun baiting him.

"Really?" I demand, crossing my arms and glaring at him. He sighs in frustration.

"Yes, I swear. What kind of person do you think I am?"

I smirk.

"Now that you've done that, I think you're a pretty suspicious guy." When he starts to protest, I quickly say, "But what did you want to ask me?"

Lars blushes for the second time. He rubs his head awkwardly.

"Well, I wanted to see if… if you would come to my place some time."

My eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What for?"

He scowls.

"Nothing! Just—I've been to your apartment so many times, so I figured I should return the favor."

I roll my eyes.

"Thanks." But I smile after that. "Thank you. I'd love to go."

He nods, and I can see the faintest trace of pink dusting his cheeks.

"No problem."

A while later, after the rain clears up, he leaves. I'm left to myself on the couch, musing.

I'm happy about his offer for several different reasons. One, he's opening up to me. Two, I like him, and so getting a chance to be around him would of course make me overjoyed. And three, I can try to find out more about the world outside and maybe even get him to admit that he wants to leave as well.

Yes; I'll definitely be taking him up on his offer someday.

* * *

><p>Oh looky thar action. Finally, the plot is getting a move on!<p>

... Anyway, please review. :3


	9. Chapter 9

To my chagrin, the rest of the days of vacation are rainy. Lars and I don't even see each other because the weather resembles monsoon season, so I just spend the days staring moodily at the trees whipping around and feeling my heart flutter whenever I think of him (how corny and pathetic).

On the day that we return to university, the sun is shining big and bright in the sky and I want to shake my fist and curse at it. But that's eventually forgotten in lieu of all of the big exams we have coming up. My head pounds just thinking of them. And so, the spring passes by, filled with all sorts of headaches and gut-roiling anxieties. Through it all, I think about Lars and what I'm going to do about my situation.

July gradually rolls around and the testing lightens up a little. We actually have free weekends now, and with that in mind… I have more time to keep an eye on Lars. And I don't like what I see.

"Why are all of these girls coming up to me all of a sudden?" he asks me one day, when we're making our way to the cafeteria after class. I scowl and stare at my shoes.

"It's almost the Qixi Festival. They're probably hoping that you'll notice them." The venom that I feel doesn't hesitate to make itself heard.

Lars blinks at me.

"Are you jealous or something?" he asks teasingly.

"No!" I roar. "What are you saying? You're so—" I slap at him. That's another thing. Ever since I realized I like Lars, I've been acting really defensive around him; sort of violent too, I guess. He holds up his hands in self defense.

"Al l right, all right." Then he adjusts his bag a little and puts his hands in his pockets. "What is the Qixi Festival anyway?"

I calm down enough to answer this because the story behind the festival has always been one of my favorites.

"Well," I say, trying to remember how Ge first told it to me. "Legend says that, long ago, there was a young cowherd who lived quite simply, tending to his cows everyday and rarely coming across anything of interest. One day, however, he was bringing his cows to a nearby stream to drink when he suddenly spied a beautiful maiden bathing. She was the weaver girl of the heavens, and she captured his heart at first glance. He saw that the magic robe she used to travel from the sky to earth was on the banks of the stream, so he stole it away and waited. Eventually, the weaver girl came out of the stream. She couldn't find her robe, so she started to sob. It was then that the cowherd came and guided her to his home. They eventually fell in love, got married, and had children.

"However, the weaver girl's father, the Jade Emperor, was furious. His daughter wove fine cloth that he loved, and he wanted her back in the heavens. However, he couldn't do anything because the cowherd and the weaver girl were in love. Eventually, the weaver girl became homesick. She began to search around the cowherd's house until, one day, she found a chest containing her magic robe. She used this to visit her home in the heavens. But once she set foot there, her father created a river, the Milky Way, to prevent her from ever going back to Earth. She languished in the heavens, unable to see her husband and children who were also mourning her loss. Her tears moved her father, and so he allowed her to see the cowherd every seventh day of the seventh month in the lunar calendar. However, once that day arrived, she found that she could not cross the river. Magpies took pity on her, so they formed a bridge over which she and her husband could meet. And that's the story of the Qixi Festival. Every time it comes around, girls are supposed to pray for good boyfriends or husbands," I finish and look at Lars expectantly. He's still walking along, staring off into the distance.

"What happened to the children?" he asks, to my surprise.

"Well…. Actually, I don't know." I smile sheepishly. "Why do you ask?"

"Is it just that, then?" he presses on, seemingly not hearing my question. "The children just stay with their father and never see their mother again?"

"Maybe—" I try. But he interrupts me.

"What kind of environment is that for kids to grow up in, with a mother who's never there and a father who only pines after her? Their mother didn't even leave them anything, she just went away one day and never returned. And their father, how does he live with himself—" Lars abruptly stops. "Sorry," he apologizes brusquely and looks away quickly. His eyes are still hard, though. I can't imagine why this story provoked him so much.

"Don't think into it too much," I plead, trying to lighten the mood. "Anyway, the children grew up as they all do, probably. And they most likely lived fruitful lives and had large families. That's how it usually goes." All of these white lies seem to appease Lars, who shakes his head a little and looks at me.

"Right." He nods.

I wonder why he became so angry. Maybe he had some sort of experience like this, perhaps even with his own family… It's probably best to change the subject.

"Hey; do you want to go to Danshui today?" I ask, suddenly remembering my promise to him. "It's nice out, and we can take a break from all those exams."

He stares at the sky as if to gauge that for himself, then turns to me and shrugs.

"Why not?"

I smile at him and shoulder my bag decisively.

"All right then. To Danshui we go! Come on, we'd better hurry." As we descend into the subway station, I look at Lars again. He seems fine now. I'm glad.

It doesn't take terribly long to arrive at Danshui and when we get there it's pleasantly cool. I take Lars down to the path by the water, where we stroll along and feel the breeze blowing past us. Fish leap out occasionally; when one does so suddenly enough to startle Lars, we both laugh.

Here, walking next to Lars, I feel happy. Even though it's the day of the Qixi Festival, even though I don't plan on praying for a good husband or a beau this year (there's still Valentine's Day, right?), I somehow think that this has been the best seventh day of the seventh month that I've had.

Eventually, we get tired and go to the McDonald's by the waterfront to refresh ourselves. As we sip at our coffees and listen to the hollow melody of the ocarina player selling his wares, I ask Lars cheekily,

"So, what do you think?"

"About what?" he asks teasingly, feigning nonchalance. I pout.

"Danshui, of course!"

"Well," And he takes a languid drink from his cup; an action that I'm for some reason very attuned to, "…It sort of smells here."

I huff.

"Well, yeah, but try to overlook that. It's a fishing town, what do you expect?"

He smirks at me.

"All right, all right. It's nice here. I like it. It brings back to mind sitting by the stream when I was younger."

This, of course, is the reaction that I've been working towards all along. I can't contain my smile, it's so wide, and have to resort to nibbling at my cake to hide it.

"Did you do anything else in your free time back then?" Apparently, I've caught him on a pretty good day, so he tells me about fishing in the rivers and biking along dirt paths and lying in the Dutch countryside, looking up at the sky. And then I get the brilliant idea of asking him,

"Would you return back to your country, if given the chance?"

He swirls his coffee around in his cup.

"No."

I'm a little startled by his blunt admittance.

"Why not?"

"Long story."

This is close enough to a confession; I'm content.

Furthermore, I'm reminded of the times when Ge and I would come to Danshui. We would be laughing about our respective days right around now and consoling each other for our lack of significant others. It's because of this tradition that I gather up my courage and ask,

"Have you—Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

Lars watches me cautiously out of the corner of his eye.

"Well… yes. Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

I blush and nod. We're both silent for a while. I hope he didn't take offense at my question! Now that I look back at it, it was a stupid thing to ask.

"I'm not saying anything about you, of course," I blurt out suddenly, causing him to swivel around to face me, surprised. "I just—The festival is getting to me!" After this terrible excuse, I immediately look down into my cup. Hopefully my hair will hide my red face…

"Hey; you have something on your cheek."

I look up at the sound of his voice, confused.

"Huh?"

He shakes his head.

Then he picks up a napkin and wipes my face. I'm stock-still the entire time. When he's done, Lars catches my stunned expression and cocks an eyebrow.

"What?"

"N-Nothing." How can I explain the suddenly increased pounding of my heart when he leaned over to dab at my cheek? How can I explain the heat that washed over me when his napkin connected with my face?

"Do you want to go back?"

I look at him sharply at this.

"Do _you_ want to?"

He shrugs.

"It's getting late anyway."

So we pack up our things and make our way to the station again. My eyes can't meet Lars' the whole time. Ah, this is so stupid! Why does this always happen?

When I look into the window, I can see the reflection of his face above mine. We're very close (it's crowded today) and it almost looks like his arm is around me… But I know it's just that he's holding onto the railing. And anyway, I don't know if we can truly be that way with each other, because there's something that he's keeping from me.

I have a feeling that finding out what it is will affect his willingness to help me with my escape.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry for not updating sooner! I've been busy. ^^'

That being said, please don't hate me for this chapter. *crosses fingers* And happy holidays/new year!

* * *

><p>Building up, building up, all of these feelings inside of me. It's too much, it just makes me want to… pop!<p>

This is how I feel whenever I'm around Lars, which is virtually everyday. It doesn't help that I sit next to him in class, that we eat lunch together, that we've taken to spending afternoons together to do homework, study, just talk. I try to act as normally as possible, but sometimes I can't help but let out a slight blush or a nervous giggle. There are so many emotions that I haven't become accustomed to, even though I've felt them before: anxiety, joy, frustration… It's all so distracting, and I find it odd that he hasn't seemed to have caught on to my feelings yet. Isn't he supposed to be a mind reader? But I should be grateful that I'm in the clear for now. It would be really embarrassing if he knew that I—

Anyway, one good thing about all of this is that I'm finally able to see where he lives.

I did accept his offer of going to his place. In fact, I've gone over a couple of times already (we switch off going to each others' apartments in the afternoons). As I'd thought, it's not such a great place to live. It has the student's necessities (kitchen, bed, desk, bathroom) but not much else. I feel sort of bad for him, but I'm not about to offend him with my pity again. However, I'm reassured by the thought that both of us will eventually find a way to escape our current lives. If only I could just find out why he's so reluctant to consider that possibility…

It's a bright Saturday today. There isn't much to do by myself, so I decide to visit Lars and see if we can do something together. I give him a call to see if he's busy; he isn't, so I pack my things and go on my way.

As I amble along the pavement, I look around at the place I've called home since forever. Taipei is irrevocably a part of me—who I am, what I've become. It's a wonderful place, and yet— Something suddenly occurs to me for the first time.

Why do I want to leave so badly?

I can make all of the clichéd justifications I want: everyone else has gone away, I'm lonely, I want to explore the rest of the world. But are these the true reasons? What if, in reality…

I don't have a reason? If I just latched onto any random idea at some point in the past and then made it my life's goal?

What if everything I've worked towards all this time was meaningless?

This thought scares me. I don't want to feel like I wasted my life. I don't want to feel like an impetuous little girl who wants something she doesn't need. I don't want to give up all of the wonderful dreams that I've had these past years.

…So I won't! There must be benefits to wanting to leave my homeland, even if I'm not aware of them. Wanting to escape can be a good thing, right? I don't want to be parochial; cosmopolitanism is modernity, and staying in Taiwan probably isn't going to get me anywhere. In order to ensure a successful future, I must develop an understanding of the world around me. No, my goal is not nonsense; I'll continue to work for it.

And yet, somewhere in the back of my mind, I can't help but think that I'm just making more pithy justifications.

* * *

><p>"You're quiet today."<p>

I glance up at Lars, startled.

"Huh?"

"You're quiet today," he repeats. "Usually, that means that something is bothering you."

"…How do you know me so well?" Because he's right. I'd been worrying about my goals when I was walking to his apartment; when I finally got here, I started to get nervous about what I was going to do about my feelings for him.

He snorts.

"We've sort of known each other for half a year now."

I grimace.

"Right." Then I sprawl over the couch, sighing. Absentmindedly, I twirl a hair band off my wrist and put my hair up into a loose bun. A few strands come off in my hand. Great, now I have to worry about hair loss too.

Behind the couch, Lars leans his forearms on the backrest and stares down at me. I feel a little self-conscious seeing his upside-down face and try to quell a rising blush.

"So, what's the matter?"

Geez, he has a memory like an elephant's.

"Nothing," I sigh, averting my eyes. Nothing he'd be interested in discussing, anyway. He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Really."

"…Yes."

Then he smirks at me. It's the one that says "I can see right through you." This time, however, I stand my ground.

"I really am fine. I was just thinking about some things, but I'm over them now." Then I close my eyes and place my hands over my stomach. I concentrate on the sensations around me: the rough fabric of the couch against my head, on my bare arms, under my calves. The slight breeze blowing over my face from the half opened window. The warmth of hands as they take hold of my legs and—

My eyes snap open.

"W-What are you doing?" I demand, staring at Lars. He shrugs as if he wasn't just pushing at my legs.

"Move over. I'm getting tired of standing up."

I huff but scoot over to make room. Curling myself up, I glare at him from behind my knees. That was irritating and a bit rude, but… I felt tingles when our bare skin connected. Oh my God, what am I thinking? My thoughts are so perverted…

We sit next to each other for a while, entangled in our own thoughts. After a few moments, I realize that Lars seems distracted. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and he seems anxious. What's the matter with him…?

"Hey, are you okay?" I get up on my knees and crawl over to him. "Are you sick or something?"

"I'm fine." He snaps out of it just in time to catch me hovering over him. Then he does something totally unexpected: he drops his eyes down to my mouth. They immediately flash back to my face again. His cheeks are red; he must have done that inadvertently. I'm a little surprised as well; I fall back, unable to look at him. My clenched hands rest on my thighs. Now the atmosphere is even more awkward.

After some time, I clear my throat and try to lighten the mood.

"So, um... it's pretty nice out today. Do you want to… go on a walk or something?"

"… Yeah. That's a good idea." He sounds uncomfortable, but I'm too embarrassed to see what his expression is right now. So we get up, get whatever we need, and exit the apartment. Once outside, I realize that I have absolutely no idea where we're going to go.

"Ah, well… I guess now is as good a time as any to show you some historical monuments," I say, laughing nervously. "What do you think?"

"I don't mind," he mumbles. I sneak a glance at him. His eyes are downcast, his face is slightly pink. I've never seen him so embarrassed before. So I punch him lightly on the arm.

"Hey," I exclaim weakly. "Pay attention to me, won't you?"

Finally, he looks at me again. There's something strange in his eyes, something beyond their gold-green depths that's as foreign as he is. I glance away quickly and march forward.

"All right! To the Sun Yixian Memorial we go."

As we walk, it doesn't escape my notice that he lags behind me. I don't dare to turn back; who knows what other awkward moments lie in wait for us? Like when he stared at my lips…

Could it be that…?

No, I shouldn't jump to conclusions. But I have to admit—while these varied feelings are at times annoying, I do enjoy having a crush on someone again. The subtle thrill of longing has returned. In a way, it makes me feel… whole. This seems weird even to me, so I stop that train of thought. We've reached the bus stop, anyway. The bus comes after a while; we board with our passes, then find seats next to each other. All this, without making a sound. I look out the window. There are people walking everywhere, _couples_, and it's then that I realize I'm acting like a pining little school girl. That's not good, I'm in university now—

"You're blushing."

I've never been gladder to hear his voice. I turn to him, smiling a little.

"It's a trick of the light."

His smirk is back, though it's not as playful as before.

"I'm pretty sure light doesn't work that way."

"Says who?"

"Someone who took physics, as you should have."

He's got me there. I pretend to pout.

"You're annoying sometimes, you know?"

Lars just snorts. But we've gotten back to acting like friends again, and I feel oddly, indescribably happy. Throughout the ride we talk and laugh and, for a time, are spared of any awkwardness.

It's only when we get to the memorial that the strangeness starts up again.

We're walking along the little footpath in the memorial park when we come to a fork in the road. One direction leads to more park, which is lined with flowers and borders a pond. The other direction leads to a bridge, where people can stand and admire the scenery. I look to Lars.

"Which way should we go?"

He deliberates for a moment.

"The bridge, I guess."

I shrug and nod. We stroll side-by-side onto the plane of the little green bridge. Along the way, we pass by some elderly couples exercising and taking pictures. I can't help but smile as I watch them (old people are so cute!). But when I turn to Lars, I find his eyes on me. He turns away quickly, but I'm left to wonder: was he looking at me?

We amble to the center of the bridge. It's relatively quiet here; not many people are around. The landscape is still. I take a moment to look down into the water and admire the lily pads. Then I spot a small heron-like bird.

"Look!" I wave Lars over excitedly. He shuffles over to get a glimpse of what I'm so excited about. It's the bird and all three of her little chicks. They stand on a lily pad, erect, graceful, their plumage reflecting in the clear pond. I see their reflections, and gradually my eyes come to a rest on my own reflection. Standing over the bridge, I seem so far away. Not only that, but I look excited, like a little girl. And beside me…

Lars is close to me. Very close; our arms are nearly touching. And he's staring down into the water with an odd look on his face, one that seems to convey some sort of desire as well as restraint. Then his reflection slowly raises its head and looks toward mine; I look over at the real Lars and see that he's watching me. His eyes are troubled and his mouth is partly open, as if he's about to say something. But nothing ever comes out. His face suddenly closes up and he nods at where the end of the bridge is. Though I want to ask him what's wrong, I just walk towards the other side like he wants to. He trails behind me. I all of a sudden grow impatient. If he wants to say something, then he should just do it. We're friends, right? And I trust him wholeheartedly, so he can count on me too. Now we're just back to square one. These thoughts tumble around in my mind until we reach the memorial hall. I look up at the porch, where dance classes are taking place and a crowd is gathering.

"I guess it's time for the changing of the guard," I comment offhandedly, in an attempt to distract myself. It's not healthy to be thinking these bad thoughts all of the time. I should get back to the task on hand. "Do you want to go see?"

"Why not?" He walks a little more quickly now to catch up to me. We ascend the shaded staircase together, trying to seek out places to squeeze in so we can watch the ceremony. After some shuffling around and many apologies, we manage to find a tight space next to a crowd of tourists. It's not a great place to be; I can barely see the guards (my height doesn't exactly help either), and Lars and I are forced to invade each other's personal space. My shoulder is bumping against his chest, and I blush just upon contact.

"Here; why don't you go up? I've seen this before already," I try to suggest so I can at least stand behind him and be spared the embarrassment. But as I shift around, I feel hands trapping me where I am.

"It's fine. I can see." His voice is deep, reassuring. Furthermore, his hands don't leave my shoulders. I… I sort of want them to stay there. Then he adds in teasingly, "Anyway, you're not as tall as I am," and the mood is ruined.

Not that there was one in the first place! This is a friendly outing, not a time for stupid romantic feelings to butt in. I have to remind myself of that. I focus on watching the guards. Everything is very quiet; only the clicking of shoes and bayonets can be heard. Two guards stand in front of the giant statue of Sun Yixian, while two more get ready to take their places.

I've always felt bad for the guards at the monument. They have to stand on small platforms for hours, immobile, staying in the same stiff position. I know I wouldn't be able to do that. I need to move, to be around others. Still, it is interesting to watch the highly regimented process. The new guards finally take their positions and the old ones march out of the hall. The crowd moves back to let them through; then people start fringing the roped off interior, eager to take pictures. Lars' hands remove themselves from my shoulders (I feel a little indignant at that). When I peek back at him, his face is turned slightly and his cheeks are colored. His hands are in his pockets. Since he doesn't seem interested in picture-taking, I decide to counter the awkward mood and lead him to the museum exhibits.

"There's a whole bunch of stuff having to do with Sun Yixian and his life and work," I explain as we move towards the entrance. "It really reveals some of the Chinese perspective during major wars."

Lars nods slowly. He's beginning to return to his old self, I think.

"Father of the Country, right?"

"Right!" I never took him for much of a history buff, so I'm pleasantly surprised. "He created the modern Chinese state. Well, not Taiwan, exactly."

"That was Chiang Kai-Shek."

"Yeah. He also has a memorial hall. It's nice there, but in truth, I like this one better." I grin a little. "There's more shade."

He scoffs at me. It's all in good fun, though, so my spirits are high as we begin to look through exhibits.

The emotional roller coaster seems to be messing me up because when we reach the end of the museum where my favorite part, the wall of comments, is, I begin to talk unrestrainedly.

"This is actually my favorite part of the museum," I confess to Lars. "Visitors can stick a memo here to say how they felt about visiting this place. Or just leave a little testament to the fact that they were here."

"Why is it your favorite?" he asks, looking amused. I don't even feel embarrassment when I proclaim,

"There are memos from people all over the world! I've found ones from Europe, Australia, the US—"

"You look through the memos?" he inquires teasingly. It's then that I realize how foolish I sound.

"I—!" My entire face flushes red, and I turn away quickly. How could I have lost myself like that? I've succeeded in making myself seem dumber than usual!

But then I feel slight pressure on my back. It's Lars.

"Why are you embarrassed?" he asks me, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "If you like it so much, then it shouldn't matter what others think."

I smile a little at him.

"All right."

"Since you're so interested in other places, maybe I should just show you some of the stuff my uncle wrote down during his business ventures." He chuckles as my eyes enlarge comically.

"Would you really?"

"Seriously?" When he sees that I'm nothing less than very intrigued, he shrugs. "All right. When we get back, then."

"Thank you!" I'm acting like a little kid right now, but I guess I don't really care. I'm too happy that he's decided to share information with me on the topic he seems most reluctant to discuss. For this reason, I rush us to the bus and back to his apartment. I don't know why I'm so happy about this when I have TV and the internet. Maybe it's because these documents will be primary sources and also because Lars is the one showing me.

When we arrive, I'm literally bouncing with excitement.

"You're too enthusiastic about this," he snorts as he slides the key into the lock. I stick my tongue out at him.

"It's because I like these things."

He lets us in and we put our belongings down. Then Lars walks towards a room that I think is his bedroom. But he does something he's never done before.

"Well, aren't you coming?" He raises an eyebrow at me expectantly. I'm surprised; he's never invited me into his room before. I've only seen glimpses of it through the doorway, since we usually spend our time in his living room. I feel a strange ripple go through me as I follow him with tentative steps.

His room is small. The walls are grayish-white. The desk is parked neatly against a corner; the bed dominates the center. A solitary lamp stands by the closet. While there isn't much in here, it's clean and the large window lets in rays of setting sunlight.

Lars is rummaging around the bookshelf next to the desk.

"Here," he mutters, pulling out what seems to be a large journal. He brings it over to the bed. I near him hesitantly; it's only when he motions at me to sit down on that I do. Sitting across from me, he hands me the book. I take it reverently; it's heavy and has a musty parchment smell.

"Is it very old?" I murmur.

"My uncle bought it from an antiques dealer. The book was still in good condition, though, so he decided to use it."

I run my hands over the binding, the cover, then open it to the first yellowed page. Immediately, my eyes are overwhelmed with a sea of writing.

"Um…" I squint a little. "I can't understand what it says. What language is it?"

"… Right. It's in Dutch. Sorry." He looks sheepish.

"No problem! The pictures are nice." There are photos and rough sketches of plants and animals, as well as of foreign people and foreign areas. "Can you translate it for me?"

"Well… all right."

I scoot closer to him, eager to begin. As he begins to summarize what is on each carefully written page, I'm captivated. There are so many places: Africa, South America, Europe. It becomes clearer and clearer to me that our world is full of fascinating things; I'd like to see them all one day.

It's only when we're on the seventh page in that I realize our proximity to each other. My heart suddenly speeds up. This is the closest we've ever been. I glance at him. He's still reading out loud, focused on the book. From where I am, his eyes are slightly darkened. His hair looks so soft, even in its spiked style. The curve of his jaw is so strong and sure. His nose, straight and proud. I realize that his skin is more tanned than it was when I first saw him. And his lips…

When I glance back to his eyes I find that they're directed at me. I can't speak, and he's just stopped. We look at each other silently for countless moments. Close, we're very close, too close to put this off as some sort of joke… His line of sight flits to my mouth again. This time, it stays there for a while before slowly moving up to my eyes once more. Is it possible that I was right about his feelings before? Is it—

Lars cocks his head a little, as if seeking permission. It is such an innocent gesture that I immediately give a tiny, breathless nod, and we kiss. His lips are soft and sweet and I tentatively close my eyes to savor the moment. They say that with the absence of one sense, the others become heightened—it's true. I can feel very distinctly the warmth of his hand as it comes to a rest between my shoulder blades, I can smell his body wash mixed with the scent of the scrapbook on my lap, I can hear the blood pounding in my head. I open my eyes then—his irises are so beautiful, gold with flecks of emerald. They are hooded a little when the kiss unfurls into something deeper, and Lars moves the hand he has on my back to my cheek.

Then all of a sudden, he pulls away.

I sit there, a little disoriented, wondering where all the pleasant feelings disappeared to. Dazedly, I look at him. Lars' head is slightly turned away, and his eyebrows are knit together. He looks perturbed.

"W-What's wrong?" I ask, half-concerned and half-elated (he kissed me! He kissed me! That means he likes me, right?). He glances at me quickly and then sighs, holding his forehead with his hand.

"Sorry. I don't know what came over me."

I almost laugh. Why does he make it sound like it was a bad thing?

"Hey." I brush my fingers against his shoulder tentatively. He looks at me hesitantly. I smile reassuringly. "I'm… actually really glad that you did that. Since, you know…" Oh, this is the embarrassing part. "I like you too."

Lars watches me with an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes flicker with emotion. After a while, he says simply,

"All right."

And we kiss again.


	11. Chapter 11

OHMYGOSH I'M SO SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN LIKE A DECADE. I've just been really busy up 'til now (and I'll probably stay busy for the foreseeable future, so I'm sorry that this might happen again. And again. And over and over again. But I don't plan to drag this fic out, so that's good news?). SO SORRY. D:

I tried to start the fic up again. My writing has probably deteriorated. But even if this chapter ultimately turns you off the fic, thank you so much for reading thus far. :)

Please go ahead!

* * *

><p>From that day on, the customary sequence of a relationship begins: a shy, school-bound love turned into perpetual togetherness, which should have turned into contented satisfaction.<p>

Lars and I are stuck in that middle stage with no way forward.

Don't get me wrong; we like each other a lot. After getting past the early stages of subtle flirtations and secret kisses, we began to go everywhere together and dropped a hint to our friends. There are now more opportunities for kisses and hugs and endearments in public, but… that's about it. We haven't really gotten to a point where we know each other inside and out like true couples are supposed to.

I think the main reason is that Lars won't talk to me about his perspective on escape. One of the foundations of a relationship is trust, after all, so if he won't even tell me about this then how close could we possibly get? But I've gotten a lot from him already, so I shouldn't be greedy and want more. Still…

In an effort to overlook this (crucial) matter, I keep showing him around. It's fun doing this anyway, and there's the added bonus of providing a distraction (his time here must be like one big joyride, now that I think about it…).

On this warm Saturday, however, we go to a department store. Lars is amused.

"Is this supposed to be a landmark?"he teases, looking around at the designer shops lining the walkways. I glare at him.

"Shut up. Anyway, it's… it'll be good for you to get acquainted with the everyday aspects of Taiwan!"

"This place doesn't seem Taiwanese to me."

"…. Sogo is a Japanese import. Taiwan has many Japanese influences."

He smirks.

"Really now."

I huff.

"Believe it or not, I do have a reason for coming here today." When he catches the change of inflection in my tone, Lars sobers up. He takes my hand as we make our way around the department store. I squeeze his and wonder for the umpteenth time just how it is that he is so perceptive. This person responds to my moods so smoothly that I often don't notice until I take a retrospective glance back at his actions.

"You're smiling," he notes, startling me. I touch my lips to confirm this.

"Yeah, I guess so." Even if I don't say it, he probably knows that it's because of him.

When we get down to the food market, he turns to me and asks,

"What exactly are we doing here?"

Pretending to inspect a box of cookies, I reply as nonchalantly as I can,

"Buying some food for my parents."

Even without looking at him, I can tell that his eyebrows are steadily rising up.

"Your parents."

"Yes. I want to stop by the cemetery today."

My feelings for him crescendo when he doesn't ask any more questions. We hunt up and down the refrigerated aisle and pick up some of my mother's favorite sushi; the kindly deli chef provides my father's favorite cured ham (along with some samples). Then we wander slowly to the exit (admittedly, I window-shopped a bit). There, we call a taxi and ride to the cemetery.

The cemetery is a peaceful place organized into squares of tombs. It's a bit congested and the skyscrapers surrounding it provide for a dissonant backdrop, but it's a nice area. Today, there aren't many people here. I take my time getting to my parents. The grass of the path swishes against my ankles, and I look to the side to see Lars' feet beside mine. Morbid as it sounds, I feel at peace here. Finally, we reach our destination.

"Mama, Baba, how are you today?" I ask as I drop down to my knees, smiling. The tombs are cold and silent as usual, but I like to think that my parents' spirits can still hear me. Their graves are simple, marked only by headstones in contrast to the elaborate shrines that some have chosen to build for their deceased. "I know it's not the Qing Ming Festival yet, but I brought you something anyway."

Lars curiously watches me arrange the sushi and ham on the ground. He's standing a respective distance away; I wave him over and watch him scrutinize the inscription on the stone for a while. Then, turning to my parents again, I say,

"This is Lars. He's from the Netherlands, and we're going out together. We met in university."

Lars seems unsure of what to do, so he just nods and bows his head a little. Internally, I squeal over his bashful awkwardness.

… Then again, I'm feeling a little awkward as well. I would normally be telling my parents all sorts of things if I were alone; now that Lars is here, I start to feel self-conscious about the things I say. What does this mean for us? Getting tongue-tied around my boyfriend; this shouldn't happen to a couple. Nevertheless, I push aside these feelings and try to overcome this obstacle.

For a while we sit there, me chatting one-sidedly with my parents and Lars silent by my side. I tell Ma and Ba about things that have happened so far with school, friends—the mundane details—all the while keeping a safe distance away from my love life.

"And Ge is still in China," I mention, unintentionally furrowing my eyebrows. "I miss him, but we still Skype." _Sometimes_, I have to add bitterly. "He sends his regards." Next to me, Lars shifts closer. Our shoulders touch in the midst of a comforting quietness. I look over at him, startled; then I smile. "I'm happy."

After this, we eat the sushi and ham (Lars seems hesitant to consume "spirit food"; I laugh) and after that, we clean up and leave. As we walk along, I turn to Lars.

"This is the first time you've been here with me, right?"

"This is the first time I've been to a Taiwanese cemetery." His voice is carefully neutral.

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you came. I wanted to introduce you in person." This is a rite of passage that other people undergo with their living parents, I realize. Maybe it's odd, acquainting my boyfriend with the deceased. I laugh a little to try to lighten up the mood. "They probably would have said something like 'Take good care of Mei' or 'We're glad our daughter was able to find a person like you.'"

Maybe my attempt was too weak because Lars sees right through me. He takes my hand and looks straight ahead as he says,

"Well, thank you for introducing me. I wish I could do the same for you."

As I kiss his cheek outside the cemetery gates and watch him turn away embarrassedly, I can't help but think that the solution to his problem is very clear.

We need only to escape, and the world will follow. Surely, he must know this too.

So why won't he even consider it?

* * *

><p>We return to my apartment in the evening. After we went to another department store to do some actual shopping, we're both ready to settle down and rest a little. I set down the groceries in the kitchen and leave the clothes in the hallway, then go into my room (so as not to disturb Lars, who is dozing off on the couch) and turn on my laptop. Almost immediately, a little Skype notification pops up to announce that my brother is online. I click on it excitedly and, after a few seconds of dial tone, finally see my brother's face filling up the screen.<p>

"Wan?" His voice is tinny as usual, punctuated by the occasional crackle.

"Ge! We haven't talked in such a long time." My enthusiasm is born out of my desperation for familial contact. Unconsciously, I lean closer to the screen.

"Yeah, I know." Ge looks older, somehow, and he's kept his hair long. I can't resist giggling.

"You still look like a girl."

He scowls halfheartedly.

"Is this the greeting I get when I get to talk to you for the first time in weeks?"

I laugh again, more quietly this time (there was just a disgruntled noise from the living room).

"It's good to see you again."

He softens and semi-smiles. The lines on his forehead (when had those gotten there?) ease out of sight for the time being.

"You too. What's my pretty little sister been up to all this time?"

I blush at that and pout at the screen.

"Nothing much. I've just been studying and hanging out with friends." I don't know if I should tell him about Lars yet. Ge strikes me as the type who would get overprotective.

"As you should. I'm glad."

There's something off about him. It takes me a while to realize that it's his accent; it's taken on a Beijing-dialect lilt. I'd never really noticed it before; could it be that he'd had it all the previous times we'd Skyped?

"You have a Beijing accent," I comment as lightheartedly as I can.

"Do I?" He looks sheepish. "Must be because most of my business associates are from Beijing."

I don't know what to think. This accent has obscured a part of my brother that I'd known so well before—it's made him a bit foreign in my eyes. This gnaws at me. Perhaps it's best to change the subject.

"So, how have you been doing? Has the smog gotten to you yet?"

"You'd be surprised how fast you get acclimated to the environment around here. Anyway, I mostly stay indoors dealing with business negotiations. You wouldn't be interested in that type of stuff."

While he's right, I can't help but think that the Ge from before would have told me everything, even the things I didn't necessarily want to hear.

"Then, did you do anything interesting?"

"Well, I visited the Great Wall? I'll send you the pictures."

"Okay."

There's a moment of awkward silence. I take this time to scrutinize his face. It's more tanned than I remember; the features are a little sharper as well. He looks tired, like he hasn't been sleeping well. His eyes are lusterless (maybe it's because of the low-quality videochat?). And there's a hint of nervous energy permeating his entire face.

"Is something wrong?" I venture. He shakes his head immediately.

"No, no, nothing at all!"

I know my brother well enough to tell when lying.

"There's something you're not telling me."

"Er, maybe." At my raised eyebrow, he concedes with, "Okay, yes. But…"

"Just tell me." Even if I won't like it, he should still tell me, right? We're siblings, after all. I watch his expression contort from conflicted to accepting. At one point he averts his eyes and covers up the lower half of his face with his hand; finally, he looks at me again with a sigh. His shoulders hunch forward.

"Wan, I'm not going back to Taiwan." His tone is dead set, his eyes are resolute yet pitying. They never leave my face.

"… Huh?"

"My job. It requires me to stay in Beijing until further notice. I don't know if I'll be free to leave in a month, a year… ten years if my superiors feel like it."

Now I'm the one who has to turn away.

"I… I see." Crushing, crushing—that is what his words are doing. The sole reasons for why I've stayed in Taiwan are not only to finish up my university career but also to maintain the apartment for Ge _when he returned_. Always, I had assumed that he would be coming back. Always, I had assumed that we would face the world together.

Never had I anticipated this.

"Wan?" His voice brings me back to the unpleasant present. My eyes are slow to meet his. "Are you okay?"

"I…" By now, the shock has deadened. "Yes." It is a more resolute, still wounded me that adds, "I don't blame you, Ge." And yet _how could you leave me?_ "It's your job, so I understand." _Is a career more important than family?_ "Oh, and you know the classmate that I was telling you about before?"

"Uh… that Lars guy, right?"

"Right." A grin slowly stretches across my face, smug, sickly, totally unlike me. "We're dating."

"Wha—"

And it is a new, totally different me that closes the laptop with grim finality. There is nothing but acceptance in my mind now; acceptance that my brother will never be coming back, acceptance that I will have to fend for myself. How has everything changed in the course of a videochat session?

Now, there is no other option for me but to leave this place. How can I stay here, when everything has gone to pieces?

And yet…

I hug my knees to my chest amidst the pillows and blankets of my bed. For all my anger and indignation, there is an accompanying deluge of sorrow. Everyone has left me behind; how could they be so heartless? And if it isn't their faults, then why is the world this way? It's made me a different person, someone who is malicious and spiteful and childish to an extreme degree. Self derision has leached into my heart like a slow poison. Who is the hateful girl who owns this limp brown hair, these shaking fingers? I don't know who I am anymore. All I know is that I must get away from here.

It is a sleepy and confused Lars that finds me, two hours later, huddled on the mattress in an immobile mass. His hands stroke over my hair and wet cheeks as he settles next to me. All of my recent problems (_relationshipwithLars brotherisgone howdoigetawayfromhere?_)swirl around in my head and numb me. Soon, I can only feel Lars' touch and, sometime after that, I cease to feel anything.

My dreams are filled with one-winged birds.

* * *

><p>Erp. *wants to know how readers thought it was. critique is duly appreciated. constructive flames are also great*<p>

As for that last sentence, Dream Mood . com says that deformed birds may symbolize "lack of understanding in affairs of the heart."


	12. Author's Note

As much as I feel like a hypocrite for putting this up (since I hate it when a fanfic is ended by a dreaded author's note), I regret to say that this story is discontinued. This is due to both lack of time and lack of motivation/ideas (actually more of the latter), so I'm really very sorry. I've gotten such wonderful feedback from people- it's truly amazing that readers would put so much time into a review. :D Thank you so much for staying with GRITS.

...Actually, I've always wanted to do this. Have you ever read fanfiction and thought about rewriting it (or ending it) based on your own preferences? I feel that way sometimes, though I'm usually too lazy to do so. So I'm curious- if anyone would like to try doing such a thing, I would be really interested in reading when I have time. So if you do, drop a link! Not that I'm expecting many people will, but it's a thought...

Again, I'm very sorry for this. And thanks!


End file.
